The Guilty II
by Frodo Silverlune
Summary: Part Two. The Quest has been accomplished; the Ring is destroyed. But Frodo still carries a great weight, a burden too heavy for him to bear.
1. Chapter 1

**The Guilty - Part Two**

Disclaimer:  I don't own Lord of the Rings, or any characters, places, or events associated thereto.

**Chapter 1**  
~~~~*~~~~  
Two hobbits lay quailing on a small rock amidst the earth's destruction. Smoke, fire, and brimstone ate away their crumbling foundation, and one clung to the other as though to protect him from their inevitable fiery end.

"Are you afraid to die?" the weaker one asked, voice so harsh only his companion could understand. The other shook his head, smile lighting up his face while tears streaked brilliantly through the ash searing his face.

"No, sir, I ain't, but I'm goin' to be sore put out to not see Rosie or me Gaffer again."

The dying hobbit hung his head.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I shouldn't have let you come. You don't deserve an end like this."

His companion caught him in a fierce embrace as a particularly large section of their perch crumbled away into the boiling mass of molten rock streaming by them, waiting patiently to claim their bones forever. They lay that way for a while, until oblivion stole them away on sweet eagles' wings to a far green country.

~*~

Pain. Voices.

"How's....hand.....not....stop bleeding...he's fading, my lord!"

"Stop that...."

"Stand aside...knife..."

"...fire....heat it up..."

"He's awakening!"

Silence. He couldn't open his eyes. They seemed to be sealed shut by the lashes. He couldn't breathe, so great was the pain in his throat. His lungs burned for oxygen, but the fumes of Mordor had finally accomplished their purpose, sealing his airway with swollen tissue. 

"He can't breathe!"

 A long, cylindrical object was forced into his mouth, snaking towards the back of his throat. The tube grazed the tender flesh blocking his airway, sending ripples of piercing shock waves to his brain. A throbbing pulse in his shoulder echoed the re-awakened Morgul Blade wound.  Nothing existed but pain.

_'Orcs,'_ he panicked, remembering the torture at their hands. _'The Tower.'_  He could be no other place.  
He tried to fight, but no strength was left in his limbs, lying loosely at his side. Pain shot up his arm from a hand that felt as though it was no longer there. The cold tube prodded the swollen mass in his throat, searching for the opening to his esophagus. Each individual jab forced tears from his eyes, but he couldn't cry out for want of liquid. He gagged on the intruder, forcing his tormentors to withdraw it. 

 "I can't find it, my lord! His throat is too swollen."

He could feel himself beginning to fade as his lungs drew the last vestige of oxygen from the supply trapped in his isolated lungs.  

"He's suffocating, sire!"

Cool water was poured into his mouth, but other than wet the parched cavity, it could not be swallowed.

"I feared it might come to this," said a sad but familiar voice.

"Think carefully, my friend. What is the greater anguish, to live at the will of another or a merciful end to suffering?"

_'These can't be orcs,'_ the hobbit thought, but the brief moment of insight was pushed away by a sudden stab in his windpipe, between the larynx and the collarbone. A cold metal blade punctured his airway and withdrew as quickly as it had come.  Almost before he could register the shock, a tiny tube was inserted into the small opening. 

It was a strange sensation, breathing involuntarily through the tube rather than through his mouth or nose. He would have wept if there was any more liquid left in him, ashamed at his own helplessness.

He didn't know where he was, or what was happening to him. Hot sheets pressed on him from above and below, encasing him in an inescapable tomb. Other than that, he was aware of nothing but a sense of failure and terrible weakness. Something had happened to him, and it had been the cause of a  death, in fire. Had he died? Fire was all around him, the fires of the Mountain, the great chasm of fire in a place beneath the earth, the fire raging in his own body. Why did the fire not consume him, too? He had failed. He longed to give in to the fire, but dastardly cold rags were constantly wiping his face and neck, cooling his burning skin. Why were they doing that? Couldn't they see he deserved to die?

As the immediate want of oxygen faded, white hot pain took its place, coursing through his body, a tormented spirit trapped forever in an old haunt, doomed to linger for all eternity. There was no relief, until a gritty liquid was poured into his throat and he was forced to swallow. Only then did the pain fade, and with it all minute traces of awareness.

**~To be continued!~**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Guilty - Part Two**

Disclaimer:  See chapter 1.

**Frodo Baggins 88**:  You _almost_ cried…hmm, perhaps a bit more angst?  Coming right up…

**Breon**** Briarwood**:  Yes, it would be merciful to let them go, or at least one of them.  Perhaps Aragorn and Gandalf will find that out too late…

**Jackie Rose Sparrow:**  Hello!  Thank you for reviewing!  Always love to hear from readers…

**yellowrose****:**  I'm glad you like Mordor aftermath stories.  I don't particularly because most replay the same events over and over (of course there are the exceptions, which are the ones I like to read)…yet I wrote another one anyways to give some sort of foundation for later lovely angst… 

**lovethosehobbits**:  Dying wish? Oh dear.  I _wish_ I could write full time!  But high school  (arrrgh)….only one more year, only one more year, only one more year…my _goal_ is to write and publish full time.  I'm working on a novel, and I have some ideas for more.  *quivers with delight* But for now I must content myself with writing short stories. *sighs deeply*

**Trust No One**:  Thank you for reviewing!  I hope you like angst…

**Kaewi****:  **I _like _your review!  Yes, the story does follow the book from where I left off, until now!  Mwahaha  Thanks for reviewing!!  

**Chapter 2  
**~~~~*~~~~  
  
Sam opened his eyes and stared at the leafy canopy above him, wondering in awe at the golden shafts of sunlight turning the edges of emerald leaves to brilliant yellow and white. A cool breeze ruffled the leaves, sending them in a frolicking dance against the blue sky, and a slight movement beside him averted his gaze.

"Mr. Frodo!" he exclaimed in amazement, then gasped as he sight fell upon the other figure. "Gandalf?!"

The wizard grinned broadly and chuckled.

"Yes, my friend. Gandalf."

Sam rubbed his eyes, glancing from one to the other seated beside his bed. Frodo's face was pale and he was wrapped in a thin blanket, but he seemed to be faring better than before.

"Good afternoon, Samwise," Gandalf said. "Sleep well?"

Sam sat up and stretched as much as his sore muscles would allow.

"I think so, sir!" he smiled, and then sobered, remembering the mountain. "Have we died?"

Gandalf chuckled again, though he tried to conceal it in his voluminous sleeve.

"No, Samwise," he said, "We are in the woods of Ithilien, east of Gondor.  I believe you passed through them on your journey."

The hobbit nodded.

"Aye, I remember. But how did we get here?"

"The eagles carried you and your master from the mountainside."

"The eagles? The same eagles that were in Bilbo's stories?"

 Gandalf nodded, and with an approving nod from Frodo, continued in the tale, relating to the curious hobbit all that had happened since.  Once he had finished, Sam lay back and stared at the treetops, soaking it all in, especially the fact that he had been sleeping for ten days.

"Well, bless me," he said finally, "if it ain't too good to be true!  But what about you, Mr. Frodo?"

Gandalf cleared his throat.

"Frodo isn't permitted to speak yet, Samwise.  An operation had to be performed in order to save his life, and his throat is still healing."

For the first time, Sam noticed the bandages encircling the lower portion of his master's neck, nearly hidden by the blanket around his shoulders.  He knew he shouldn't probably ask, but concern and curiosity propelled his next question.

"What sort of operation?"

"The entrance to the esophagus was blockaded with enlarged tissue, thus the healer resorted to a perforation in the trachea."

Sam's head spun with the complicated sentence.

"I was never much good at medical explanations," he muttered while trying to make sense of the phrase.

"They poked a hole in my windpipe," Frodo explained abruptly, voice harsh and rusty with disuse.

"Frodo!" the wizard reprimanded, but the Ringbearer didn't seem to hear him. 

"I couldn't breathe through my mouth, so they made me breathe through my throat instead."

"That's quite enough, Frodo Baggins," Gandalf said sternly, and the hobbit's lips pressed into a firm line in rebellion.  Sam blushed, speechless with shock.

"Y…you shouldn't be up, sir," he finally stammered, yet his friend shook his head indignantly.

"He's done nothing but sit at your side for the past four days, ever since he awoke," Gandalf said, glance hinting at reprobation.  "He refused to cooperate with the healers unless he was allowed to sit beside you."

The two spots of color on Sam's pale face blushed even brighter.

"You shouldn't have done that, sir.  You're hurt a sight more than I and…your hand!  What's happened to your poor hand?"  His eyes flashed with pain at the memory, and tears threatened to spill out of the corners when Frodo pulled a maimed and bandaged hand from beneath his covering.  He only displayed it for a second before returning it to the concealing refuge.

Shame swept over Sam at the thought of how much pain his master must be enduring to sit at his bedside, yet he knew all the arguing he could offer would not change the stubborn hobbit's mind in this circumstance.  An idea came to his mind then, and he scooted over to the far side of the bed, patting the space beside him.

"You can lay here, sir, if you want.  That way you'll be layin' down and watchin' me at the same time!"

A tiny smile twitched at the corner of Frodo's mouth as he considered the option, but it disappeared and he shook his head.

"You won't be puttin' me out," Sam coaxed.  "There's plenty of room here for four hobbits!"

Frodo hung his head wearily in compliance, and Sam knew he would have said

"Once again you've convinced me, Sam.  How you do that I don't know!"

He made a move as if to rise, and sweat came to his forehead, turning his lips white in pain.  Gandalf gathered him up and set him on the bed beside Sam, arranging the covers over him.  Frodo turned his head to smile at his loyal gardener, but the pain behind his eyes was poorly concealed.  Sam was shocked to realize how thin he was.

"Have you been eatin', sir?  You look thinner than you did on the mountain."

"No, he hasn't been eating much," Gandalf sighed.  "We were hoping perhaps you might be able to persuade him."

Sam glanced at his friend and realized he had fallen asleep.

"I'll try, sir," he said softly.  "I'll definitely try."

**~To be continued!~**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Guilty - Part Two**

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1.

**Trust No One:**  Yes, I am in High School.  I wish I could have been more original in my name, but…eh, that's the way it goes.  

**Camellia Gamgee-Took:**  *bows* Thank you!

**Jackie Rose Sparrow:**  What?!  I didn't kill Frodo?  Oops…well, *laughs maliciously*

**Iorhael****:**  Yes, that is what fanfiction authors do.  Re-write the same events over and over, but each time with a little twist.  Those 'little' twists can get pretty big sometimes though…

**Breon**** Briarwood:**  Sorry to disappoint you, but there's plenty of other long, drawn-out Frodo-recovery fics in the archives of the web world.  I'm keeping this story to four chapters, right? hmm

**ElegantArrow64:**  Tea…cool!  Tea is good.  Yes, a rare doctor is a straight-forward doctor.  I wonder why they do that.  They're not the ones suffering…

**laurajslr****:  **I like discovering well-progressed stories too.  So convenient!  And you don't have to review every chapter either…

**shampoo**** marea**:  Thank you for reviewing!  I'm glad you like the drama!

**Frodo Baggins 88:**  You didn't cry…yet!  *grins in anticipation of next chapter*

**Kaewi****:**  Yes, he is a very stubborn hobbit.  As I said before, it may eventually lead to his undoing.  I hope the characters continue to be real in this and the next chapter….that's one of my concerns if you read the note on the bottom of this chapter.

**ellaG****:**  I'm glad it's a new thing!  Thank you for reviewing!

**lovethosehobbits****:**  Really?  You're loving it?!  Thank you! 

**_Everybody:_**  Wow!  I'm blown out of the water by the overwhelming response!  Thank you thank you thank you!  21 reviews on two chapters!  Time to celebrate…with PIE!!  Mmmm pie

**~Chapter 3~**

~~~~*~~~~

            Laying there in the dark, staring into the great mass of silver-lined shapes suspended, still as death in the air, Frodo thought of what was.  Everything he remembered so clearly: the gaping chasm, the plunging fire, and the tiny band of gold flickering above its Doom, whispering in his ear.  

It had spoken of a green land, filled with flowing rivers and dripping honey.   Brilliant flowers adorned rolling hillsides and slept in the shade of massive oaks, wrinkled and twisted with peaceful time.  Birds sang in whispering treetops, and golden fields stretched on and on into the rosy horizon under a swift sunrise.  And, too weak to resist any longer, he had given in.  

Now that his mind was no longer clouded with smoke and fumes, and the awful weariness dragging him down no longer plagued his tormented mind, he was able to recall every detail of the horrific scene.  

"The Ring is mine."

A fog settled over his soul, blacker than the foulest arts could conjure, yet he reveled in the evil of it.  He grasped the hate, twisting and melting into the glorious fury, and in his hunger for possession he placed the Ring on his finger.

He had known the vision was false; even then it was shrouded in misty shadow, as a dream.  Even so, he apathetically refused to accept the truth. 

He took the Ring.  The vision would be his, yet it would not, for it did not exist.  Nothing existed but the Ring.

Even Sam, white-faced and trembling on the floor of the chasm faded from his memory as he left the chamber behind.  He had the Ring, that was all that mattered; until he was struck from behind with a force so terrible he was thrown to the ground.

~

A tiny sob erupted the midnight stillness settled in the black room.  Frodo allowed the silent tears to trickle down his cheeks as he recalled with utter humiliation those fateful seconds of doom.  His entire world was shattered in Oroduin, not so much with the Ring's destruction, but with his own failure: that selfish claim.  'Savior' of Middle Earth, nonsense.  That title belonged to Sam, perhaps even Gollum.  It was Gollum who had destroyed the Ring, and Sam that had brought it there.  Why did no one realize such plain fact?

Frodo sighed shakily, too weak to even cry.  This was all that was left of Frodo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire.  This empty shell of a person he used to be.  The old had been destroyed, only a damaged cask remained.  Battered, bruised, and burned, seared and scalded, a living corpse rather than a living being.  His left hand touched the bandages around his throat and he sighed bitterly.  He would have died, if they hadn't saved his life.  

_'They should have let me suffocate,'_ he thought.  _' 'twould__ have been more than I deserve.  I consciously claimed the Ring, something I was bound by oath never to do.  Yet that is not the only fault…even though Gandalf survived, he fell, did he not?  We lost him, and in losing him we lost Boromir.  Who knows what could have happened had Gandalf never fallen?  I should have been the one to fall, if only I didn't have the cursed Ring.'_

'But you have it no longer.'

Realization slowly dawned on Frodo.  No, he didn't have the Ring, not anymore.  There was nothing to stop him, no ties, no oaths to which he was bound.  Yes, now that the Ring was gone, what did he have to live for?  Certainly nothing but haunting memories and vicious dreams.  They had said his wounds would never fully heal.  What was the use of going on, with nothing but blame and failure to shadow his trudging footsteps as he flitted about the living world.

And his finger, his missing finger, the most horrible of all.  He knew the questions lurking behind Gandalf's eyes, and the unspoken wonderment of the countless healers attending to his every need.  

"How did it happen,"  they whispered.  "What was the noble deed to cost him a limb?"

Noble.  Noble Frodo Baggins.  He carried the Ring to Mount Doom and destroyed it, a hero!  

No, it was no hero that laid silently on the bed and watched the moon hide its precious face behind a black cloud.

**~To be continued!~**

**_IMPORTANT!!  _**_Yes, I have the next chapter done, but I am at a sort of dilemma.  There are two ways to end the story.  One is unique, yet tragic, the other is typical and happy.  I cannot decide between the two, so it's up to you!  Do you, readers, want a happy ending, one everyone expects, or a sad ending?  Shakespeare or Disney?  Or would you like me to include both options in the next chapter?  _

_If I can have a beta for chapter 4, the conclusion, I would really appreciate it.  Thanks!_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Guilty - Part Two**

Disclaimer:  I don't own Lord of the Rings.

**_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and moooocho gracias for your opinions.  The vote was in favor of the Shakesperean ending, yet I posted both.  The tragedy is first, happy ending second.  Please let me know which one you like better, because I couldn't decide!_**

**~Chapter 4~**

~~~~*~~~~

            The farewell banquet insofar was a complete success.  Everyone important had arrived: the King and Queen, the Steward, the representatives, the foreign Ringbearer and his kinsmen.  Tables groaned under the weight of countless dishes, the wine poured freely and the hall rang with raucous laughter.  Not a gloomy face was to be seen.  

If one was to look hard enough, however, they would have noticed the banquet was not a complete achievement.  It had failed to chip the stony countenance of one who hadn't smiled since the day he had been rescued.  King Elessar had tried once more to make the hobbit happy, but had failed.  Nothing, it seemed could break the ice frozen around his face.  He seemed to be trapped in an emotionless state of being, existing only for the convenience of those around him.

But in reality he was biding his time, waiting for the one moment when his suffering could end.  He was too wounded, and would never be healed.

~*~

            Frodo hesitated before the small stand for a moment, as though a great internal battle raged within his mind.  He finally reached inside his jacket and pulled out a sealed letter, placing it with trembling fingers on the table.  Then, eyes set like cold steel, he slipped outside and passed through the courtyard, cloak flapping mournfully behind him in the starry night.

~*~

            Sam burst into the room and at once spotted the small object on the table, addressed to him.  He tore it open, and his eyes scanned the parchment.  His chin trembled, and with a cry he flung it down and raced out of the room. 

 The letter sailed through the air and landed face up on the stone floor, where the firelight flickered and danced across the black, spidery ink.

_Dear Sam, _

_I don't know when you'll find this, before or after, and as hard as it may be for you to read, it is harder to write._

_They rescued me, Sam, from death, yet it is to death that I turn in the end.  How can I go on, wounded as I am, torn between two battles: my soul and my mind? _

_You were there, when I claimed the Ring for my own, as you were when I made the decision that led to Gandalf's fall.  For all your loyalty and incredible devotion, I failed you in the end.  Can you see why I am no hero?  My guilty conscience haunts me, and it will never fade, as the wounds I have earned will never cease to torment me in my reminiscence.  _

_You, Sam are the true hero of Middle Earth.  You will go on and live your life.  Marry Rosie.  She loves you and has only been waiting for your proposal.  Forget me, and let my miserable existence fade.  I am lost, and can never go home._

_Frodo_

~*~__

            He stood on the brink of the chasm, looking out towards the land of Mordor.  The wind swept the hair from his face and as he basked in the fury of the skies, tears trailed down his face.__

_'They will know, they'll understand.'_

_'A hobbit would never do such a thing!'_

_'This one would.  This is no ordinary hobbit, as they say.  Old Mad Baggins, went off and got himself killed in a foreign land, amongst foreign people, for a foreign cause.  Always said no good would come of his Took side, got it from his mother, he did.  Nasty lot of them, always too adventurous for their good!  Now look what's become of it.  I'll say somethin', his mother and father?  Yeah, they killed each other, they did, over him!  That nasty, spoiled, selfish boy, always knew he'd never come to no good.  Should've died with he parents, he should've.'_

_'Lies, all lies!'_

_'Was it was a lie when Gandalf fell?  A lie when Sam nearly died to bring you through Mordor?  It was a lie that Merry and Pippin were wounded, and Boromir died?  A lie, was it, to make you put the Ring on you finger?'_

"No," he whispered, clutching the handle under his jacket.  "I am to blame.  I am Guilty."__

A brilliant flash, a slight metallic ring, and the blade glinted in a sudden slash of lightning.  He stared at it, mesmerized, a gift from one of the noblemen who's eyes had glinted knowingly as he presented him with it at one of the ceremonies.__

"A gift, mercy for a gentleman," he had whispered so only Frodo could hear.  __

Now he stared at the slender blade, hilt encrusted with cruel gold, tarnished but beautiful.  Deadly and beautiful.  __

The lightning flickered again, and an accompanying clasp of thunder nearly drove him to his knees.  But he stood firm, and his hand was raised.__

"No! Mr. Frodo, no!" __

He clenched his teeth in agony.  All the weight of the world tumbled onto his shoulders.  The great desperation redoubled.  He took a step towards the edge.__

"Don't come any closer!"__

"Stop, please, Mr. Frodo!  Come back!"__

"No! Stay away!"__

The chasm loomed beneath him, so dark and inviting.__

"You can't stop me, Sam!  I should've died at Mount Doom, and you can't stop me now!"__

"Please…" __

"That's enough!"  He didn't dare look at Sam's face, for he knew one glimpse would be all it would take to change his mind.  He raised the dagger again, aiming for his heart…__

"Why, Frodo?"__

His hand trembled, and he could feel himself weakening.__

"We love you!  Why?"  Sam's voice broke, and another flash of lightning glinted from the blade. __

**_~Ending 1~_**__

"Because I failed."  And with that, he drove the blade into his heart.__

Sam screamed and reached out to catch him, but Frodo, eyes already clouding over, took a faltering step back.__

"Goodbye," he whispered, and in that split second, Sam thought he saw something of regret pass over his master's eyes, but it was gone.  For, taking one last step backwards, the Ringbearer fell from the cliff and was lost in the torrent of rain streaking down into the abyss.  The wind howled, screaming in delight as despair once more claimed a tortured victim.__

"Lost!  Lost!" It mocked, wrapping itself around the tiny falling form, hurling it into the depths below where the rocks and earth claimed it as their own. __

Sam fell on his knees and clutched at his heart, gripping the edge of the chasm until his knuckles were white.  He had lost him, again.  But this time he wouldn't be dangling from a rock.  Sam couldn't pull him to safety, Frodo was gone.__

 His world had vanished into the rain, and he fainted on the cliff, in the shadow of his master's footsteps.__

~*~__

_Dear Mr. Frodo,_

_            It is with much difficulty that I finally read your letter, and found I could not do what it was you asked.  You have wounded me, my friend.  In the taking of your own life, you have caused so much more grief than if you had stayed._

_You were wrong, my friend, to take matters into your own hands.  Forgive me, but I cannot pardon you for this sin.  You have robbed me of my joy, and although I should have been happy when we came home, I find I cannot live a life as a loving father and husband witnessing your self-destruction.  In riding yourself of guilt, you have in turn placed it upon me, and there is no relief._

_So I will journey to the Grey Havens, and take Arwen's place on the ship beyond.  Merry and Pippin are heartbroken, as are the rest.  They found your body, and it will be buried at sea along with this letter, my last words to you.  Your name shall never more pass my lips, my friend, as long as I live._

_Why?_

_Sam_

**~The End~**__

*********************__

**_~Ending 2~_**__

"Why?" Sam asked again, and Frodo couldn't resist turning to look at his friend.  Sam's face was an indescribable mask of grief, yet devoid of tears.  He looked as though he were being torn in two.__

_'See what grief you have caused?  Your friends love you, would you cause them more harm?'_

Frodo clenched his teeth, but his hand was shaking.  He suddenly realized what he was about to do.  He was plunging himself into non-existence.  He would never hear the birds sing, never walk in a shady glen, never watch the brook as it trailed serenely by.  He would never curl up beside the fire with a good book on a rainy day, and he would be leaving Sam.  What would Sam do if he were to commit suicide?  Could he bring such grief upon his most beloved friend?__

"I…"  Frodo faltered, and suddenly the blade burned bright in his hand.  His fingers released it, and as it fell Sam rushed forward and caught him in a massive embrace.  Frodo clung to his friend and sobbed uncontrollably, the sounds lost amidst the downpour so suddenly released from the sky.__

"I'm sorry," he whispered over and over, "I'm so sorry."__

He didn't need to be reassured he was forgiven.  Sam's very presence was enough.__

And the knife was washed over the cliff in the healing rain as the Guilt was swept away, and the skies were made clear once more over the earth.__

**~The End~**__

****

So…what did you think?  Please tell me!!!

Also, if you haven't noticed I updated 'The Master of Bag End.'  


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